


Of Bowties and Boxer Shorts (AKA DORKS IN LOVE)

by Finduilas



Category: Teen Wolf (TV), Teen Wolf (TV) RPF
Genre: First Time, M/M, RPF, Sharing Clothes, Texting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-29
Updated: 2013-07-29
Packaged: 2017-12-21 18:33:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/903491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Finduilas/pseuds/Finduilas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>"Excuse you. Did you get your look from Hoechlin’s closet."</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"Dylan was super surprised when he got back from San Diego and realized he and Hoechlin had accidentally swapped suitcases. And then he just shrugged and got dressed."</em>
</p>
<p>Or, the one where it was Siny's birthday and she added "But where's the fic?" to a reblog on Tumblr, and I just couldn't help myself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Bowties and Boxer Shorts (AKA DORKS IN LOVE)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [siny](https://archiveofourown.org/users/siny/gifts).



> \- There was a [gif set on Tumblr](http://finduilasclln.tumblr.com/post/56637187979/sinyhale-devildoll-mccallmelaheys-dylan) where Dylan looked like Hoechlin had dressed him, and it was Siny's birthday and she wanted fic, so I obliged! 
> 
> \- Beta'd by Space.
> 
> \- Title by Deedo2313 (and "sub-title" or whatever you call it by Siny herself) 
> 
> \- HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SINY.

“This isn’t funny, you know?” Tyler says with a huff, as he ruffles his hand through the suitcase, trying to find something decent.

“Oh, come on, it totally is,” Dylan says, and Tyler doesn’t even have to see him to know that he’s smiling from ear to ear.

“You don’t even own a tie, Dylan!” Tyler says, the phone pressed between his ear and his shoulder as he pulls out one of Dylan’s shirts, and wait – isn’t this _Stiles’_ shirt? “I can’t go to this event without a tie!”

“You have, like, three bowties in there!” Dylan calls out, indignant.

“A bowtie is not a tie,” Tyler says, rummaging some more through Dylan’s suitcase.

“I beg to differ,” Dylan says, “It has the word tie in it, _Ty_.”

Tyler tries not to groan but fails.

“We’ll see each other in, like, a week, right?” Dylan says, way too cheerful, “You’ll have all your stuff back then!”

“And in the meantime we’re supposed to walk around in each other’s clothes?” Tyler asks, as his thumb strokes absentmindedly over one of Dylan’s boxer shorts.

He tries not to imagine how Dylan would look in his clothes.

“Nobody’s even going to notice!” Dylan says, and Tyler can’t help but let out a snort at that.

“Have you met our fans?” he laughs, and Dylan’s responding laughter hits his ear.

“Even better,” Dylan jokes, “We’ll make them ridiculously happy.”

“There’s a tiny part of me that’s actually worried you switched our suitcases on purpose,” Tyler says as he sags down on the hotel bed next to the open suitcase – _Dylan_ ’s suitcase – and smiles at the blue “stud muffin” t-shirt.

“You’ll never know,” Dylan says, putting on a cryptic James Bond villain-like voice that makes Tyler smile despite himself.

“You scare me sometimes,” Tyler says, with a put-upon sigh.

“You love me too much for that to be even remotely believable,” Dylan laughs, and Tyler doesn’t even want to think about how true that statement is.

“Hey, listen, I gotta go,” Dylan says, “or I’m gonna be late for that thing at the Dodgers Stadium.”

“What are you going to wear?” Tyler asks jokingly.

“You’ll see…” Dylan sing-songs before he hangs up.

Tyler shakes his head amusingly, until he spots the bowties again and suddenly remembers. He groans as he lets himself fall back on the bed, next to the suitcase. And then he spots the small zipper at the side of the suitcase, with a little padlock on it.

***

From : Hoechilin

_Impressive, Dyl. Very impressive._

From : Dylan

**You’re gonna have to give me a bit more than that, Hoech**

From : Hoechilin

_You packed extra batteries and everything…_

From : Dylan

**THAT WAS LOCKED**

From : Dylan

**OMG TYLER THAT WAS A LOCKED COMPARTMENT**

From : Hoechilin

_The key was wrapped in your underpants Dylan._

From : Dylan

**WHY ARE YOU SNOOPING THROUGH MY UNDERWEAR?**

From : Hoechilin

_Are you kidding me? I’m not wearing my own dirty pair of underwear for an entire week._

From : Hoechilin

_Aren’t you wearing mine?_

From : Dylan

**Well, yeah… but I didn’t realize you’d wear mine as well.**

From : Hoechilin

_You’re changing the subject._

From : Dylan

**I am not talking to you about how you found my vibrator, YOU ASSHOLE.**

From : Dylan

**That was a poor choice of words, considering… but damn, man!**

From : Hoechilin

_Would you rather talk about how stunning I looked in your bowtie?_

From : Dylan

**You looked ridiculous.**

From : Hoechilin

_You’re just mad because now I know you own a vibrator._

From : Dylan

**Why aren’t you freaking out?**

From : Hoechilin

_Why would I be?_

From : Dylan

**I… thanks, man. That’s cool.**

From : Hoechilin

_If you only just found out that I am extremely cool, I’m offended, really._

From : Dylan

**Cool people don’t call themselves cool, Hoech.**

From : Hoechilin

_You can’t handle my coolness_

From : Dylan

**And while we’re at it, that peace-sign at every photo-shoot is the opposite of cool**

From : Hoechilin

_I think I’m back to mocking you for your dildo now._

From : Dylan

**Too late, man.**

From : Hoechilin

_You did realize you were sharing a room with T-Pose when you packed that thing for Comic Con, right?_

From : Dylan

**Yeah, well, maybe I didn’t think I’d be spending all of my time in my own room?**

From : Hoechilin

_Whose room did you think you’d be spending it in?_

From : Dylan

**I gotta go. I got a thing.**

From : Hoechilin

_Liar._

From : Dylan

**You’ll never know.**

***

He feels kind of bad when he does it, but not bad enough to actually _not_ do it, so he stuffs the one pair of boxer shorts that still belongs to Dylan in his own underwear drawer before neatly folding all of Dylan’s clothes – washed and ironed – into the suitcase.

“Hoech!” Dylan calls out, unceremoniously dropping Tyler’s suitcase next to him when he sees him that first day of shooting the second half of the season. He pulls Tyler into a bear hug, genuinely happy to see him.

“You’re wearing one of my shirts,” is what Tyler says, instead ‘hello Dylan’, and he mentally kicks himself for it.

“Yeah,” Dylan just beams, looking down at the purple shirt that’s just slightly too big across the shoulders.

“Did you come straight from the airport?” Tyler asks, somewhat confused.

But Dylan just smiles and says, “Nope. Just really liked this shirt.”

Tyler tries hard not to read anything into it, as he continues staring at Dylan, in his shirt.

“You guys have a bet or something this week?” Jeff says as he steps up to them, scripts in hand.

“Huh?” Dylan asks, all innocent, as Tyler snorts.

“Tumblr went crazy,” Jeff says, and maybe Tyler would be worried if he didn’t see the hint of amusement in Jeff’s eyes.

“How do you even have time for the internet when you haven’t finished writing the end of this season yet?” Dylan teases, effectively avoiding the subject.

“I don’t,” Jeff says, smirking, “But I have a genius social media guy that keeps me in the loop of all the crazy stuff you guys do.”

“We accidentally swapped our suitcases in San Diego,” Dylan explains, shrugging.

Jeff nods, seemingly torn between rolling his eyes and bursting out in laughter.

“At least I didn’t show up in public with his vibrator,” Tyler deadpans, and it’s so worth it to see the shocked and indignant look on Dylan’s face when Jeff just doubles over, laughing.

“I hate you so much!” Dylan calls out after Tyler, as he picks up his own suitcase and trots down to his trailer.

He opens the suitcase to find Dylan folded his clothes half-decently, but when he brings one of his shirts up to his nose and takes a good, long whiff, he can detect a hint of Dylan.

“Oh God,” Tyler mutters, sinking down on his couch as he runs his fingers over the fabric of the shirt.

“I hate him so much…” he mumbles under his breath as he tilts his head back to lean on the headrest of the couch. He hesitates for a second, but then slings the shirt over his face and breathes in deeply.

Yeah, no, he really doesn’t hate Dylan.

***

At lunch, Dylan settles in right next to Tyler, hands wrapped around a large sandwich.

“You know,” he says, munching on the bread as he speaks, and Tyler should really not find it so charming. “You really shouldn’t check out the internet this week.”

“Huh?” Tyler says, popping some dried fruit into his mouth.

“If your innocent little eyes were offended by that vibrator, you really don’t want to see what people had to say about us wearing each other’s clothes,” Dylan winks at him, then licks some mayonnaise off his lips and the action is just this side of obscene.

“Of course you checked it out after Jeff told you,” Tyler shakes his head, amused.

“What can I say?” Dylan smiles wickedly, “They say ‘don’t do the thing’, I’m gonna do the thing.”

“You realize you just told me not to do the thing, right?” Tyler smiles.

Dylan takes a last bite of his sandwich, then says as he gets up, “Yeah, but you’re a goodie two-shoes.”

And Tyler scoffs and wants to protest when Dylan adds, “You don’t even get any of my hints,” before bouncing off and catching up with Posey.

Tyler looks stunned, watching as Dylan jumps on Posey’s back with a laugh.

***

Dylan opens the door to his apartment on the second knock, and he looks half-surprised, half-amused when he sees Tyler standing there.

“Maybe your hints just weren’t clear enough?” Tyler says, and he’s trying hard to look confident and self-assured when he’s standing there, but there’s a tiny doubt inside of him that fears he’s got it all wrong and he’s about to make an ass of himself and he’ll never be able to show his face on set ever again.

“Oh really?” Dylan smiles, his eyes glimmering with delight, and it eases Tyler’s concern somewhat. “So what would your idea of a decent hint be?”

Tyler grins, and hooks his thumb underneath the waistband of his jeans, pushing it down a bit to reveal the edge of his underwear.

“Are those…?” Dylan’s mouth hangs open as he stares at that tiny sliver of underwear – bright blue and slightly frayed at the edges, which suggests they might be Dylan’s favorite pair – that’s visible, and Tyler just pushes past Dylan and walks into the apartment.

“… mine?” he hears Dylan say behind him with a gulp.

“You’ve been wearing mine for the past week, so…” Tyler shrugs, and Dylan closes the door behind him.

“I thought you’d be more comfortable in your own now?” Dylan says, the initial shock making place for a smirk. “Aren’t those a bit small for you?”

“They’re nice and snug,” Tyler says, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jeans and deliberately pushing the waistband down a bit.

Dylan’s eyes travel down to the waist-level again, before meeting Tyler’s eyes and saying, “So you did take the hint, huh?”

Tyler smiles, brightly, and he doesn’t lose Dylan’s gaze as he asks, “Can you take one now?”

Dylan just flashes him a smile, then curls his hand in the front of Tyler’s shirt and pulls him close. He presses his lips up against Tyler’s, and Tyler can feel the smile on Dylan’s face before he opens up his mouth and lets Tyler’s tongue slide inside. Tyler brings up his hands to the sides of Dylan’s face, brushing his thumbs over Dylan’s cheekbones and moles and just revels in the taste and the smell and the presence of Dylan.

Dylan nips at his lips – little, repeated, fast nips, before he scrapes his teeth over Tyler’s bottom lip and _Jesus Christ_ , why haven’t they been doing this all along?

As Tyler makes a slightly embarrassing whiny noise, Dylan slides his hands down over his sides, until his fingertips reach the edge of Tyler’s boxer shorts – _Dylan’s_ boxer shorts – and stop short for a second.

“Jesus, that’s so hot,” Dylan breathes against Tyler’s mouth, then drags his lips over them in a seemingly uncoordinated movement that Tyler can feel as a spark all the way down into his toes. 

“I’m willing to wear your underwear every day if you’d like,” Tyler whispers as Dylan’s fingers slip underneath the waistband of the boxers, fingernail scraping delightfully over Tyler’s skin.

“Fuck yeah,” Dylan breathes, nuzzling his face against the stubble of Tyler’s neck.

“And I kinda loved the way my clothes smelled of you,” Tyler goes on, tilting his head back a bit as Dylan slides his tongue over Tyler’s jawline.

“Mmmyeah,” Dylan mumbles, pressing his nose against Tyler’s skin and taking a deep breath.

“But I’m never ever wearing those bowties again,” Tyler whispers in Dylan’s ear.

Dylan lets out a loud laugh, rubbing his hands over Tyler’s sides before pushing him down on the couch a few steps behind them. Tyler reaches up as Dylan comes down to straddle him, folding himself over Tyler in one swift move.

“I’m willing to bet I can convince you though,” Dylan smirks, trailing a path with the tip of his nose from the crook of Tyler’s neck up to his ear.

“I don’t know…” Tyler says, fingers splayed over Dylan’s back.

He tilts his head, capturing Dylan’s lips in another kiss.

“But I bet I’m gonna love finding out…” 


End file.
